The Odd Dawn
by Strikepenguin5
Summary: A short play about man's philosophical quest for meaning- and the harsh reality that lies behind it. Also, the harsh fantasy behind the reality. Act II finished, play finished!
1. Act I

Act I

Scene I

Dawn.  A black horizon line and the dim outline of the massive, bushy, branching tree that Leopards are seen in.

_A massive, earsplitting crash._

_The set of the sunrise falls forward (or is otherwise immediately withdrawn) to reveal a smoking spacecraft, damaged beyond repair, parts strewn everywhere._

Enter a Man in a bulky space suit, stumbling from the wreckage.  He doffs his helmet, revealing his face.

Man: Hello?  Mavis?  Hello?  Mavis?

Pause.  He waits for an answer, hears none.

Man (Panicked): Mavis?!

(Offstage)Female voice: Here I am!  Here I am!

Man (Who has not heard, or cannot hear the voice): Mavis!  Answer me!  Mavis! 

He stumbles about, unsteady on his feet from the crash.  He continues shouting, becoming more and more agitated.  Mavis!  MAVIS!  MMMMAAAAAVVVIIIIISSSS!!!

(Offstage) Female Voice: I'm here!  Here!  Over here!  He has still not heard, he breaks down and flops onto the ground, curling into a fetal position, sobbing.

A female figure enters.  She is clad in a tight-fitting, low-cut outfit that enhances her already formidable beauty.  Her hair comes down to her waist and is jet black.

Man (Never looks at her, does not see her): Oh, you're dead!  Mavis, You're dead!  Dead!  Dead!  Gone!

Woman: Disappeared.  Vanished.

Man: Obliterated.  

Woman: Invisible

Man: Enshrined in that Pyre of a ship!

Woman: Standing here before you.

Man: Sent off with the fanfare of a pagan king!

Woman: Ignored like a pagan housewife.

Man: Gone from my grasp my delicate love!

Woman: And inaudible too.

Man: Ripped, wretched, flung from the fragments of my raw and bleeding heart.  My injured hands!  Clutches knee.  My wretched leg!  She advances, standing tall directly behind his huddled form, while he writhes and curses on the ground, clutching his knee.

Sound of glass or fine china shattering.

Blackout.

Scene II

The WOMAN is alone on-stage, spotlighted, surrounded by darkness.

Woman: Here I am, floating in the midst of darkness while he drifts on, unaware of my being.  I try to stand still so he can find me, but he turns every which way but my direction.  All day long he shouts "Mavis!  Mavis!"  The crash has addled his brain, I think.  I am Hyminitptra.  (pronounced "high-men-ip(like "if")-tra (like "the"))  Pause.  The beautiful.  The talented.  The great.  I should be queen of something, but there's no one to be king except him and whatever Mavis he dreams of.  Offstage, the MAN begins to whistle like a bird.  Stop that racket!  The whistling continues, then the Man hums one long note.  That's intolerable!  The hum is joined by another hum at a lower octave.  What the… A third hum, an octave higher than the first, starts.  This is outrageous!  Doesn't anyone get their own soliloquy anymore!  Two more hummers join, forming a major chord.  Go away!  Go away!  Go away!  Woman begins pacing in small circles, spotlight follows her.  Several more hums begin offstage, and the entire offstage ensemble begins to hum "Silent Night."  That's not so bad.  Actually, that's quite nice.  The Woman sits down.  I could sit here and enjoy this insanity as if it were the only thing in the world.  Pause.  That matters.  Longer pause.  The hummers finish "Silent Night." Immediately, the finale of the 1812 overture begins to play.  The WOMAN leaps to her feet.  Shut up!  Shut up!  Quiet!  Peace!  Silence!  Give it a rest you pack of annoying jackalopes!

The overture ends.

Blackout.

Same crashing noise.

Scene III

A company of ten women, all beautiful, all clad in black pants, shirts, socks, etc.  Over this each one wears a large, white T-shirt emblazoned with an "S."  They carry musical instruments, mostly drums and various horns.  One drags a small cannon on wheels.  Their leader, the one dragging the cannon, is in front.  

Leader: Halt!

All stop.

Leader: It is with great pride and displeasure that I commemorate this statue to Lorenzo de Medici, umpteenth ruler of Italy Incorporated and an inspiration to us all.  In his four-month stint as a menace to society, Medici proved the modern theorem of mathematics that states that all numbers must not add up when accounted for.  'Lay, liar, lay liar,' the famous words attributed to him, were not unlike a Bob Dylan song and similar in address, for indeed Lorenzo was at that time dying of Laryngitis.

Follower: Laryngitis?

Leader:  Of course Laryngitis!  Don't you realize that all public speakers die out as soon as they lose their voices?

Follower:  Of course!

Leader:  After his Death, Lorenzo spent many years in his elected position bowing to the whims of fish.  Today we mark his statue in the valley of clay.

Followers.  Today we mark his statue in the valley of clay.

Leader:  We mark your sacrifice of your life to the service of the bigger, and while you neglected the smaller and more numerous we thank you anyway, for our collection was incomplete.  Strike up the fanfare, ladies!

They mime playing their instruments while the 1812 overture plays, starting just before the finale.  Upon each cannon blast, the LEADER viciously yanks a long cord attached to the base of her cannon, which is pointed offstage right.  The WOMAN enters, ducking and screaming, from offstage right.

Woman:  We're under attack by jove, crickey and molotov!  I've been a good girl and will gladly drink to it if only someone would stop this infernal racket!

Leader:  Halt!  The FOLLOWERS stop playing.  The WOMAN continues on her way across the stage, screaming.  Why hast thou come, Woman, to this isle?  The WOMAN ignores, her, continuing offstage.  Explain to me how you come to be on this island where only men tread!  Come back here and answer me!  The LEADER sprints after the WOMAN, then doubles back, she has forgotten her cannon.  The LEADER labors mightily to drag the cannon off stage, shouting questions at the long-gone WOMAN all the while.

The followers, unsure of what to do, drop their instruments and form a human pyramid with four on the bottom, three on top, and two more on top of them.  They begin to cheer like cheerleaders at a football game.

Followers!  Followers!  Yayyyyyy Boom!

The cannon goes off.  The Leader screams and falls prone onto the ground.  The followers continue their chant.

Sing-ers, 

we are Si-rens, 

We can't Sing

But we try.

We play our

Trom-bones with

Grace and a lie!

They cheer, and collapse the pyramid.  They jog in a small circle.

Leader: You stupid idiots!

Follower 1: Morons!

Follower 2: Freaks!

Follower 3: Buffoons!

Leader: We swore we would never do that again!

Follower 1:  But we practiced!

Leader: Quiet!

Follower 1: Silence! Followers continue jogging.

Follower 2: Stillness!

Follower 3: Death!

Follower 1: Decay!

Follower 2: Orthodontia!

Follower 3: Tongues!

Follower 1: Languages!

Follower 2: Words!

Follower 3: Writing!

Follower 1: Literature!

Follower 2: Study!

Follower 3: Asceticism!

Follower 1: Quiet!

Leader: No!  She rushes in and breaks up the circle.  Never pollute our foul island with this nonsense!  We want only good clean insanity!  Insanity for the whole family!  Family Lorenzo de Medici would have enjoyed!  Let us play Lorenzo Rex!  Lorenzo Rex, for the last man to crash upon our foul island!

They grab their instruments, and play the finale of the 1812 overture.

Blackout.

Scene IV:  

The WOMAN is onstage, spotlighted, surrounded by darkness.

Woman:  I… The lights come on.  Hey!  The lights turn off.  That's The spotlight turns off.  Now just a! The lights turn on.  What… The lights turn off.  Huh?  The spotlight returns.

Oh forget it!  She exits.

Blackout.

Enter MAN.  He is now clad in torn rags.

Man: Mavis!  Mavis!  Enter LEADER.

Leader: Here I am!  Man stares in blank amazement.  He cups his hands over his eyes, then removes them slowly.

Man: Mavis, what's the status of the ship!

Leader: What?  Come here, here I am!  Enter WOMAN.

Woman: No wait, here I am!  Man rushes towards LEADER with arms open, as if expecting a hug.  He circles around her three times, then returns to his original position.  WOMAN, incensed by this, runs up behind the MAN and hits him on the head.

Blackout.

Sound of glass shattering.

Sound of cannon firing. 

A massive, earsplitting crash.

SceneV

The MAN, stage center, the WOMAN, stage right, and the LEADER, stage left, are all spotlighted.  Everything else is dark.

Leader: Here spot!  She whistles as if calling a dog.

Woman: Come here!  Come here!  She opens her arms to him.  He stares straight ahead.

Leader: Come here!  Here, boy!  Here, man!

Woman: Trying to entice him, sultry.  Come here, big boy.  I've got something for you.  Something… special.

The man continues staring straight out at the audience.

Leader: I have food!

Woman: Sees this change in tactics, reacts.  I have more food!  Come and have my food!

Man:  LIES! Roars, then continues looking straight out at the audience.

Leader: My food is better!

Woman: My food is even better!

Leader: Desperately.  My food will answer every question you have, it contains ultimate knowledge!

Woman: Just as desperately.  My food carries ultimate power as well!

Man: Just as loudly as before. LIES!

Leader: You will die without food!

Woman: You will die without me and my food!

Man: True!

Leader: He comes with me!

Woman: He comes with me!

Man: False!

Leader: What?

Woman: What?

Man: Questions!

Leader: Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?

Woman: Can it be seen from here?

Man: No and yes!

Leader: Perplexed. No and yes?

Woman: Just as confused.  Or yes and no?

Man: Either!  None!  Neither!  Both!

Leader: Which is it?

Woman: Tell me, please!

Man: Philosophy!  No one may say exactly what is certain.  Physics!  Limited by Heisenberg and quantum theory.  Chemistry!  Limited by ideal gases!  Biology!  Limited by theory and chemistry and physics!  Space!  Limited by time!  Time!  Limited by space!  Matter!  Limited by space and time!  Nature!  Limited by Biology!  Man!  Limited by everything!  Mind!  Limited by its own conceptions!  Body!  Limited to conception!  Civilization!  Conceptual!  Mavis!  Limited by absence of limitations!

Leader: Mavis?

Woman: Mavis!

Leader: Are you Mavis?

Woman: I wish he knew.  Are you?

Leader: Thank heavens, no!  Would you like some tea?

Woman: Yes, please.

Leader: One lump or two?

Woman: Better make it three.  The three main Followers cross the stage spotlighted, from right to left.

Follower 1: Bing!

Follower 2: Bang!

Follower 3: Bong!

They exit and re-cross the stage.

Follower 1: Bong!

Follower 2: Bang!

Follower 3: Bing!

Man: I wish I had my hat.  As it is, I have only my sword.  And my words.

Leader: What's he after?

Woman: What does he want?

Leader: Why is he here?

Woman: Where is here?

Leader: The island of failed Sirens.

Woman: The island of lost souls.

Leader: Not so much souls as delinquents.

Woman: Lost delinquents.

Leader: It sounds like you're missing a cheese or a fine wine.

Woman: He is a cheese or a fine wine, and I haven't acquired the taste for him yet.  Or he hasn't acquired one for me.

Leader: He can't hear our song. 

Woman: He can't see me.

Man: Mavis!  He turns abruptly, runs to the very back of the stage, then sprints off.

Leader: Damn these philosophers!  I'm hungry!

Woman: Damn these whackos!  I'm supposed to be married!  Pause.  This is your fault, you realize.  

Leader: MY fault?

Woman: What else but your stupid cannon could have brought down our ship?

Leader: Don't blame the faults of your ship on my cannon!  My cannon is a big and beautiful metal casing!  The noise it makes should please every god who hears it!

Woman: It's annoying.  No wonder you said you were failed sirens.

Man: (Offstage) MMMMAAAAAVVVVVVIIIIISSSSSSSS!

Woman: I wish he would shut up and settle down.

Leader: I'm getting hungry!

They exit.

Blackout.

End of Act I


	2. Act II

Act II

_Spacecraft wreckage._

_Afternoon_

The MAN enters, still clad in rags.  His space suit sits, upright and empty, upstage right, on a rock.  Man is haggard, fatigue strains his voice.

Man: Mavis, Mavis where are you?  Answer me, Mavis.  Tell me what's the status of the ship.  _He turns away, looks at the ruins of his ship, and turns back to face the audience.  He sinks to his knees and falls forward on his face.  Enter WOMAN, still dressed normally._

Woman: Here again.  Why do you always come back here?  It can't be fixed.

Man: Must ask Mavis, what's the ship status?

Woman: _(Furious) _It's destroyed, you fool!  Obliterated!  Nothing left but a pile of junk!  You can see it for yourself!

Man: _Stands to face her.  He adopts the tone of an adult correcting a petulant child.  _Don't be silly.  Mavis will tell us what's wrong with the ship, how to fix it, and the best way to go about fixing it.

Woman: _Angrily, sarcastically._  And where is this "Magical" Mavis?  And who is it?  Some oyster you found down by the shore?  A piece of seaweed?  

Man: _Smiles, looks off in the distance_.  No.  Mavis is not an animal, nor is she a vegetable.

Woman: _Disbelief._  Mavis… is a rock?

Man: Technically, yes.  But her personality is wonderful.

Woman: You want a ROCK to tell you how to fix the ship?  It's a rock!  They don't move!  They don't breathe!  _Pauses, thinks._  I suppose that makes them the most tolerable inhabitants of this island.

Man: I said her personality is wonderful.  Don't you ever listen?

Woman: Don't you ever hear?

Man: Don't you ever comprehend?

Woman: Do NOT get started into one of those awful word games the failed Sirens play.  _She shudders._  If I ever get off this rock I will never listen to a trumpet again.  Never.  Ever.  And I will become a pacifist.  _The far off noise of a cannon firing echoes across the stage._  I'm surprised she hasn't killed us with that thing.

Man: Mavis would calculate the probability of us being hit with that cannon.  Then she would tell me medical tips on how to survive the impact of a cannon shell, how to treat cannon wounds, and how to haunt wooded areas if a shell should happen to strike your head off.  Then she would expand on the history of the gun, naval warfare, and provide me with a list of famous blue-water naval engagements to read at my leisure.  Then…

Woman: _Who has been staring at him while he rambles, cuts him off abruptly._  Mavis sounds like the most annoying person I have ever had the pleasure of not meeting.

Man: You and she got along quite well.  You had the most fascinating chess games…

Woman: What?  I can't play chess!  I barely even know what chess is!

Man: Can you stop now?  You're distracting me.

Woman: What am I distracting you from?

Man: An exercise in memory.  I am having trouble with mine, and you have lost yours.

Woman: I have lost my memory?  _If she were a deity, thunder and lightning would be rolling across the sky at this point.  Instead, they here the far-off BOOM of a cannon shot.  Both instinctively duck._  That's ridiculous!

Man: No, only very loud.

Woman: I have not lost my memory!  I remember everything!

Man: You seem to have forgotten the cannon shot.

Woman: I remember… _pauses.  Thinks hard for a span of a few minutes.  The MAN sits down and begins to tap his fingers rhythmically on the ground.  Soon he adds his other hand, then his feet, then begins humming and singing to himself._  

Woman: I remember…

Lights fade to dim.  "Taps" faintly echoes across the stage.  Cannon shot.  Spotlight on WOMAN and MAN as lights fade completely.

Woman: I remember…

Man: I'm going.  _His spotlight turns off as he gets up to leave._

Woman: We were married!  _Sound of MAN falling flat on his face, a curse._  I'm sure of it!  Come here.  _She walks over to where the MAN lies stretched out across the floor, face down.  She lies down next to him, raises his head up and kisses him.  _I remember that clearly.  Then came the space flight.  Then the crash.  Then this.  _Man leaps to his feet, stares at her in mute terror.  She rises, startled at his alarm._  What is it?

Man: Mavis!  _He runs, tackles the empty space suit._  Mavis!  Is that you?  Mavis!  Mavis!  Talk to me!  _The WOMAN rushes over to see what is causing his agitation._

Woman: Talk to me!  What's wrong?

Man: _Yells into the empty neck ring of the space suit._  Talk to me!  Where are you?

Woman: Talk to me!  Who is Mavis, why are you doing this?

Man: Talk to me!  What is the ship status?  What are the answers?

Man: Come in, come in!

Woman: Come out of your shell and talk!

Man: Answer me!  Help me!

Woman: Answer me!  Help us!

Man: Answer me!  Send help!  Send Mavis!

Woman: Just answer me!

Both, simultaneously: I'm dying here and I don't know what's going on!  _Pause.  They look at each other.  Revelation on both of their faces.  They kiss._

A single jazz trumpet plays sweetly after the Blackout.

Scene II

The decayed ruins of an old, Viking-style wooden ship are in the background.

The WOMAN is singing whimsically to herself, offstage.  She enters, dressed in rags similar to those worn by the man.  They do not mar her beauty.

WOMAN enters, scat singing beautifully.  Sound of the seashore.

Woman: I don't know what I'd do without the beach.  It's the one place that really seems peaceful and quiet.  Pauses.  Or maybe it's the white noise.  Still, I can't believe how much I enjoy being here.  Pauses.  Or how much here enjoys me being.  

Leader enters, dressed normally, with the addition of a very prominent feather in her hair.

Leader: When exactly are you going to eat him?

Woman: Excuse me?

Leader: You're supposed to EAT him once you've enticed him.

Woman: Why would I want to eat him?

Leader: Are you nuts?  It's the only way to make sure he won't turn on you!

Woman: You're crazy!

Leader: You were able to entice him, why shouldn't someone else be able to?  You have to make sure no one else does!

Woman: Why would he go to someone else?  We're happy together and there IS no one else.

Leader: There's myself and the others.

Woman: He doesn't care about anyone else but me.

Leader: Oh come on!  He's a man!  If you won't eat him, I will!

Woman: Don't touch him!

Leader: You aren't using him to his full potential!  Why should I let you waste, even though I let you stay here?

Woman: You LET me?

Leader: I allow you to.  I tolerate you to.  You certainly allow us to try him.

Woman: You haven't.

Leader: We will and will continue to do so until we prove that you should have eaten him when you had the chance.

Woman: For what reason do you want to eat him?

Leader: First off, we've been marching all over the island playing for him, and two, we're all hungry and you won't eat him.

Woman: Why do you expect me to eat him?

Leader: You enticed him, didn't you?  You lured him in!  Just like everyone else, you brought one here in some high-minded attempt to show us how it's really done, but you torture us by not eating him!  What are you, some kind of self-denying sadist?

Woman:  Wait.  You she points at LEADER, who nods want me… points to herself, LEADER nods again to eat him points offstage, LEADER nods a third time why?

Leader: Puzzled, this situation has never come up before.  Well, I figured you would get bored with us and go back to the others once you were finished with him.

Woman: Others?

Leader: You know… sheepish … the real, official sirens?  WOMAN bursts into laughter.  If you think this is some kind of joke, it's isn't!  Do you realize how bad you make the rest of us feel?

Woman:  Controls her laughter.  You think that I'm a Siren?  Stifles another round of giggles.

Leader: Well… you were enticing him, and you can sing beautifully.  Not the best I've heard, but there were no men around, so I guess you didn't have to go full-bore.

Woman: No, I'm not a siren.  I am merely a woman.  LEADER is furious.

Leader: You're not a SIREN?  You're Mortal?  You're human?  

Woman: Of course.  What did you expect?

Leader: A SIREN!  A real, official siren!  They always come down here, hoping to finally show us the error of our ways!  OR they come with the remains of their latest conquest!  It's infuriating!  It's insulting!  They're so condescending about being REAL sirens, and we play our hearts and lungs out and I fire my cannon on and on, but no one ever comes!  She bursts into tears.  You have no idea how degrading it is.  Addresses the audience.  They don't know good music when they hear it!  And they didn't care that you were here, and they barely noticed he was here!  They were quite impressed before one of them double-checked and said that you must have brought him here, and then they sand us one of their infuriatingly peaceful songs, and flew off.  We gave them our best shot, we gave our music the most gusto we've ever played with.  I swear my cannon might have grown another inch in circumference it was so deep and loud and beautiful!  And then, she's gasping for breath, but mad to get her words out YOU gasp DON'T gasp EAT HIM!  She bends over, clutching her belly, trying to catch her breath.  WOMAN stands next to her and sits both of them down, laying a hand on the LEADER's shoulder.

Woman: Real women don't eat their men, they love them.  

Leader: You're pitiful.  

Woman: And you're a failure.  No wonder you're not happy.  You can't stand pleasant music, you don't want to love…

Leader: It's weak!  We EAT men!  We don't LOVE them and let them impregnate us like some kind of weak female!  We eat them!  Dominance!  We are the strongest, they come like moths to a flame, terrified of our power, fascinated with our music!

Woman: Their music.  The sirens' music.

Leader: I am a siren!

Woman: A failed one.

Leader: A siren is a siren, even if a live man's never set foot here since the beginnings of time!  So what if we've failed?  Someday, we will succeed!

Woman: You're insane.

Leader: I'm hungry.  I want one conquest.  One man.  To eat.  You have him.  You got him, and you aren't a siren.  And you won't eat him.

Woman: It's a method of consumption that fills both while diminishing neither.

Leader: So you ARE Mavis.  Do you know what he means?

Woman: I am not Mavis, I am something for him to devote his time to.  Before me he searched for Mavis.  He still searches for answers.  He may not find any solid ones, but if he thinks he's on the right track, he's happy.  He's calmed down, and doesn't bother me about Mavis.  Without me, he'd still be searching for Mavis.  Without each other we would go insane finding things to do.

Leader: I admit it works, but I like my way better.  So does he still muck around with that massive, twisted pile of rock on the north end?

Woman: It's what he does.  If he ever finishes it we'll return to civilization, but he probably won't, and I'm fine with it.  

Leader: You'd accept his weak failure just like that?

Woman: It keeps us sane, doesn't it?  It keeps you sane, doesn't it?

Leader: In shock.  How rude!  See if we play for you ever again!  She stalks off stage.

Man's voice (offstage): I think I fixed it!  Explosion.  Nope!  But it's a start!

Woman laughs, then walks offstage.

Blackout. 

Curtain.

End of Act II

End of Play.


End file.
